Close Encounters of the Percy Kind
by Supervolleyball12
Summary: I truly believe that people with strong stories attract one another, for better or worse. And when these people meet, the world tends to change a little. (I said this was a one-shot but I lied.)
1. Percy

Although he would later deny it, Dean Winchester found himself completely at a loss for words. This, of course, doesn't happen often. In his lifetime, Dean had lived through so many, frankly bizarre, experiences that he felt nothing could surprise him anymore. He had been to Hell for Christ's sake! He traveled through time and fought demons and basically has an angel on speed dial. But this, this was something new. Again. Jesus, he was getting too old for this shit.

* * *

In his shocked silence, Dean stared at the kid for a long time. Probably too long, he should have acted by now. Survival is often guaranteed to those who act quickest. But damn it, he was tired. They have a leviathan tied up in the basement of Rufus' cabin and Sam is still hallucinating and all Dean wanted was a walk to clear his head a bit. But he stood on the bank of a shallow creek, staring at the kid sitting in the water. The kid stared back. He didn't look afraid exactly, but he seemed to be waiting for Dean's reaction. However, at that moment Dean didn't have a reaction to give. He watched as the cut on the kid's forehead slowly closed and disappeared, as if it were never there. When it became apparent that Dean wasn't going to speak first, the kid stood up from the knee deep water. Keeping half an eye on Dean, he approached the headless body of the leviathan, floating listlessly nearby and nudged it with the toe of his sneakers. Black ooze seeped out of the severed neck and he made a face.

"Huh. Normally the monsters dissolve, or explode or something." He commented thoughtfully, a New York accent evident in his voice. The kid's words broke the silence and pushed Dean out of his shock and back into action. He brought up the gun, previously hanging loosely in his hand, and pointed it at the kid. The kid immediately stepped back; his hands flew into the air.

"Whoa! Ok, it's cool, dude. It's cool, just—"

"How did you do that?" Dean interrupted, "Where'd your sword go?"

"Do what? What sword? I don't know what you're talking about." The kid's eyes were fixed on the gun. Dean wasn't impressed.

"Look, kid—"

"Percy." The kid said.

"What?"

The kid gestured loosely to himself. "My name is Percy." Dean threw a hard look at the kid, who gave him a little shrug and dropped his hands to his side.

"Whatever, fine. Percy. You can't bullshit me. I saw the sword and I saw the water. Water doesn't move like that. I didn't move the water. The Levi didn't move the water. That leaves you."

"Levi? Is that what they're called?" Percy glanced back at the floating corpse with interest.

"Leviathans."

"Oh. I've never heard of those before."

"Well they're sort of new." Dean said, "Hey, don't get off topic. You were explaining yourself." Apparently Percy no longer felt threated by Dean because he stepped out of the creek and picked up the backpack he had dropped on the ground.

"And you can see them." Percy said.

Dean lowered his gun but didn't put it away. "Of course I can see them. I also saw that sword you pulled out of nowhere. What kind of kid carries around a sword?"

"I'm almost twenty, thanks. But you must be clear-sighted then." Percy commented as he dug through the pockets of the bag. Dean could feel himself quickly losing control of the conversation. Over in the creek, the leviathan's detached head began to make its' way back to the body.

"My eyes are fine."

"I can tell." Percy said. He looked up from his bag. "Have you seen my phone?"

"No. Now tell me about the sword. You didn't have it when the Levi first attacked and you don't have it now, so where do you keep it."

"I could tell you, but then I would have to kill you." Percy said. Dean rolled his eyes.

"C'mon, kid."

"Percy."

"Whatever."

"Do you want the truth?" Percy paused in his search for the phone.

"Yeah."

"You can't handle the truth." Percy said. He grinned when Dean kicked a rock in frustration. "You kinda walked right into that one, dude."

Percy jumped back into the creek and began feeling around for his phone in the water. He absentmindedly kicked the head away from its' body again. "Do you mind helping me look for it?"

Dean wasn't quite sure what else to do, so he tucked the gun back into the waist of his jeans and started sifting through the leaves on the ground with his boot, looking for Percy's phone.

"What are you even doing out here?" Dean asked, switching tactics.

"I could ask you the same question."

Dean rolled his eyes and swept his foot through another pile of leaves. "I have a cabin near here."

"Oh. In that case, I got lost. Must have took a wrong turn." Percy said, still searching for his phone. Dean thought about pointing out that the nearest town was easily twenty miles away and the nearest road was a good half hour of a walk, but felt it wouldn't really change the kid's answer. Percy was now on his hands in knees in the water, sifting through the rocks at the bottom.

"Hey! I found it!" Percy stood quickly, holding a small flip-phone triumphantly in his hand and shaking the water off. He opened it and grinned when the screen lit up. "Sorry dude, but I gotta go. If I'm late my girlfriend is totally gonna flip shit." Percy climbed out of the water, picked up his bag, and slung it over his shoulder.

"At least tell me what your sword is made of." Dean pressed again. Percy looked up from his phone.

"It's a special kind of bronze. Kinda rare." Percy said sympathetically. "Look, sorry I can't help you with your monster problem. If I were you, I'd bury the head somewhere deep and then burn the body. That might work."

Dean grimaced as they both stared at the twitching body in the creek.

"Well, I gotta go. Like I said -girlfriend- can't be late." Percy said, "Nice meeting you…" He trailed off expectantly.

"Dean."

"Dean. Yeah." Suddenly Percy's phone began to ring. He glanced down at the number. "Styx." He muttered.

"Hey, Annabeth! Yeah, I'm on my way… No, I totally left on time… I just hit a little speed bump on the way. Got lost. Took a wrong turn." Percy held the phone away from his ear. "Dean, where are we right now?"

"Montana."

"I ended up in Montana… I don't know how… No! The map you drew was fine…" As he talked, Percy casually away from Dean and the scene where, just moments ago, he wrestled and beheaded a prehistoric monster. Abruptly, he stopped and turned back to Dean.

"Oh, um… good luck with your monster. Bye." Percy gave a two finger salute and spun back around. Dean watched as he disappeared through the trees, still placating, who Dean assumed was his girlfriend, through the phone. When he was gone, Dean turned back to the headless Leviathan in the stream. He grimaced.

"How am I gonna explain this one to Sam?"

* * *

 **Welp. I'm not really sure where this came from. But I hope you enjoyed this one shot. I was too lazy to do anything actually productive today so here this is. Shoot me a review if you want to see more close encounters between the Supernatural crew and the demigods because these little stories are quick and fun to write.**


	2. Thalia

**Whoops, this story isn't a one-shot anymore.**

* * *

February, 18th, 1998

Coat zipped tight against the evening's icy wind, Sam stormed away from the ramshackle home he and his family were currently occupying. They were leaving. Again. Just when he'd settled into the fourth school of the year. John Winchester couldn't even give his sons a full month in one town, Sam thought bitterly. And even though he didn't really mean it, because more people could get hurt, Sam wished that his father's hunt would last a little longer. He was sick of moving, sick of long car rides and new towns, sick of dusty motel rooms and drafty trailers. Maybe Sam could see why Dean never bothered to make friends anymore or try hard to impress the teachers in class. Nothing mattered if they were leaving in a few weeks anyway. But Sam couldn't bring himself to think like that; it felt too much like giving up and embracing the lifestyle he had so learned to resent.

Sam's sneakers crunched over the thin layer of snow on the ground as he walked. He regretted not grabbing his gloves on the way out the back door. Behind him, the house faded in the distance, swallowed by trees. Sam knew that if he turned around, he would see Dean's silhouette in the window, watching him leave. But he didn't turn around. Instead, he made a sharp left off the road onto a little dirt path, and took a short cut to the town park. At this time of winter, the daylight slipped away rapidly as Sam walked, leaving him in a pale, frosty twilight. Sam emerged from the trees and made a beeline across the park for the swing set. He sat heavily in one of the swings, intending to brood until he couldn't feel his fingers, and then head back to the house. Hopefully, John will have gone to bed by then, and if Sam slept in late, he could avoid seeing his father in the morning too. However, as Sam sat, slowly swinging himself side to side with one foot, he got the distinct feeling that he wasn't along. Without outwardly reacting, Sam's eyes scanned the barren park, taking in the frost-covered playground equipment. Nothing. And yet, Sam couldn't shake the weight of eyes on his back.

There. In the little fort on top of the jungle gym, Sam could make out the toes of a pair of sneakers. Sam shifted in his seat to get a better view and spotted arms curled around knees. Trying to act casually, Sam stood up from the swings and walked closer to the jungle gym. As he drew level with it, Sam pulled himself up on the bars and peered into the fort.

"Hey." That was all Sam managed to say before a tiny, bony fist collided with his nose. Sam stumbled backwards, hands to his nose, cursing. Overhead, he heard the sound of scuffing feet and then a thump as the kid in question jumped to ground and took off running. Through watering eyes, Sam saw a short, dark-haired figure sprinting across the playground.

"Hey! Wait!" Sam called, and ran after the kid. The kid ignored him and nearly made it out of the park before tripping over an exposed tree root and sprawling out over the hard dirt. Sam caught up to who he could now see was a young girl. She was sitting on the frosty ground, gingerly holding one of her ankles.

"Are you alright?" Sam asked, squatting down next to her. "I didn't mean to scare you."

The girl whipped her head up to meet Sam's eyes. "You didn't scare me!" Sam raised his hands defensively.

"Ok. Sure. Did you hurt your ankle?"

"No. Leave me alone." The girl reached down to untie her show.

"Leave your shoe on!" Sam cut in. "If you take your shoe off, the ankle might swell and you could make it worse."

The girl shot him another angry look, but didn't touch her shoe.

"My name's Sam. What's yours?" Sam asked. Silence fell in the park as the girl steadfastly ignored him. Sam sat back on his haunches, letting the girl take her time. When she spoke, it was almost too quiet for Sam to catch.

"Thalia."

"Thalia?" The girl nodded. Sam guessed she couldn't be older than ten. "That's a really pretty name. Is it like the muse? From those Greek stories?" Thalia's eyes flicked up to his, surprised.

"How'd you know?"

Sam shrugged. "Just a guess. I really like those stories. My big brother says that makes me a nerd." Thalia let out a small smile at Sam's joke and Sam took it as progress.

"Can I take a look at your ankle?" He asked. Thalia hesitated, then nodded. She shifted her weight so she was truly facing Sam, wincing as her ankle moved. Sam took the opportunity to really look at her for the first time. She was tiny. Dark, spiky hair framed a freckled face. Brilliant blue eyes watched as Sam pulled up the hem of her pant leg and inspected an already swelling ankle. Sam took note of the tattered nature of her jeans, her scuffed sneakers, and her jacket too light for the weather.

"I think your ankle will be fine if you rest it for a day or so. I don't think you sprained it, just a minor roll. Do you live around here? Can I help you get home?" Thalia only shrugged, avoiding his eyes. Sam's gaze fell on the the T-shirt under Thalia's jacket—a Van Halen band shirt, several sizes too big. He had an idea.

"Do you like pie?" Sam asked. Thalia frowned at the sudden topic change, but nodded slowly.

"Great! I told you about my brother right? See, he loves pie too. He loves it so much that we always have pie in the house. So I was thinking, you could come back with me, have some pie, and get some ice for your ankle." Sam said, not mentioning that he was pretty sure the girl was a runaway, or that she looked to skinny, or that she looked too cold. Thalia's good foot tapped against the ground as she looked at Sam. Her eyes bore into him as if she were trying to see his soul.

"Would you have milk to go with the pie?" She asked. Sam nodded an affirmative. He knew she would accept, but let her pretend to think about it. "I guess that's ok then."

A short trip later, Sam's current home came into view between the trees as he and Thalia walked, his shoulder under her arm as she limped along, his coat slung around her thin frame and his hat shoved down over her ears. He pulled her to a stop as they reached the back steps.

"Wait here a minute. I'm not sure if my dad's asleep yet." Sam made sure she was sitting comfortably on the steps, and then pushed the door open and entered the kitchen. Dean's tall frame immediately filled his view.

"Where the hell have you been, Sammy?" Dean pulled him deeper into the kitchen. Sam unconsciously relaxed into the warmth of the house. "It's fucking freezing outside and you've been gone for hours. And what happened to your coat?"

"Is dad asleep yet?" Sam asked, peering down the dark hallway that led to the bedrooms.

"What? No. Actually, dad left. Said he was getting an early start on the hunt." Dean said. Something sour twisted in Sam's gut at the thought of his father leaving without saying goodbye, but right now, Sam knew it was a good thing.

"Ok, good. Now don't freak out." Dean gaped at Sam's retreating back as his little brother walked outside and returned with a stranger in tow. The girl was half hiding behind his brother, looking at the floor. Dean noticed she was wearing Sam's coat and hat.

"Who the fu—" Dean stopped himself. "Who's this?" Sam stepped to the side, bringing the girl further into the kitchen and shutting the door behind them.

"This is Thalia. We met in the park. She hurt her ankle." Sam glanced anxiously at Dean, weighing his reaction. "I thought you could look at it, get her some ice?" The girl did seem to be favoring one leg over the other. Dean sighed. His brother always managed to find strays to care for. This one just happened to not be a dog or cat like the others.

"Yeah, come sit down and I'll take a look." Dean said, pulling a chair away from the table for her to sit at. As she did, she mumbled something under breath.

"What was that?" Dean asked her. Sam glanced over from the freezer where he was gathering ice. The girl looked up at Dean brazenly, and for a moment, Dean could see the steel in her eyes.

"Sam said there would be pie." She said. Dean laughed.

"A girl after my own heart."

* * *

Several hours later, Dean found himself pinned to the couch by the two sleeping kids resting in his lap. The living room was dark. Abandoned plates of pie and bowls of popcorn lay on the floor next to the melting bag of ice once held against Thalia's elevated ankle. The credits to Jurassic Park rolled across the television screen. Dean smiled softly down at his kid brother. Sam was growing up too fast, and Dean knew they wouldn't get many more moments like this. He was proud of Sam for recognizing the help that Thalia needed today, not just with some food to fill her stomach, but a warm place to sleep, and the chance to act like a kid again. The girl had been impressively close-lipped, but Dean recognized pieces of himself in her attitude.

"Hey, Sammy." Dean whispered, tapping his brother's cheek. Sam lifted his head groggily.

"Wha?"

"You need to sleep in your actual bed." Dean told him. Sam nodded, rising sleepily from the couch. "Take the dishes back to the kitchen. And try not to wake up the kid."

Sam nodded again and handled the plates while Dean slid out from under Thalia's sleeping form. In a move practiced on Sam many times, he swapped his lap for a pillow underneath her head. Dean waited to make sure she stayed asleep, and then tucked a blanket around her as well. He met Sam in the kitchen.

"You know we can't keep her, right?" Dean said. Sam looked up from the sink.

"She needs people to be there for her."

"Yeah. But do you really think that we're the best for that?"

Sam's seemed too tired to fight. "What are we going to do then?" He said as he fought back a yawn.

Dean clapped a hand over his brother's shoulder. "We'll figure it out in the morning. Catch some sleep, kiddo."

Sam and Dean never got the chance to help Thalia though. She was gone by the time Dean stumbled out of bed in the morning. The blankets she slept under were folded neatly on the couch and granola bars were missing from the cupboards. A note left on the kitchen table read 'Thanks' in sloppy handwriting.

Sam ran out into their backyard, shouting for her. He dragged Dean to the park and they looked for hours but Dean knew that if the kid didn't want to be found, they couldn't find her. As the sun dipped below the trees, Sam and Dean sat heavily on their back steps in silence. Dean watched the light seep from the sky. Sam stared forlornly at his shoes. Thalia had kept his hat too.

"She'll be ok." Dean spoke up. Sam looked over at his older brother. "That kid is a fighter."

"You think?" Sam asked. Dean nodded confidently.

"Oh yeah. Totally. Thalia's a real fighter. I saw that in her."

Sam looked up at the darkening sky. "Do you think we'll see her again someday?"

Dean studied Sam's face. He could see hints of the man his brother was going to become. It made Dean feel sad for some reason.

"Yeah. I think we'll see her again."


	3. Thalia 2

February, 2008

A couple feet behind him, Sam could hear Dean yelling taunts at the Lamia they had finally tracked to the outskirts of a small town in Nebraska. They'd been hunting her for nearly two weeks now, trying to keep up as she left a path of mutilated bodies in her wake across the state. With no small amount of effort, he and Dean had cornered her in an abandoned warehouse, armed to the teeth with silver bullets and knives. The hunt had gone downhill breathtakingly fast from there.

Sam heard a splintery crash behind him and Dean's barrage of insults took on a pained tone. If Sam had to guess, he would say that the Lamia had thrown his brother onto the stack of wooden pallets in the corner of the room. With renewed urgency, Sam hunted the filthy floor of the warehouse for his missing handgun.

"Any time now would be great, Sam!" Dean called. Dean stood, wincing, and swung a two-by-four into the side of the Lamia's head. The monstrous woman shrieked and stumbled. Hissing furiously, she batted the plank of wood out of Dean's hands and picked him up by the collar of his coat. Dean kicked, but failed to dislodge himself from her grasp. The monster grunted and threw Dean across the room again. The air rushed out of Dean's lungs and he gasped, straining to breathe. In his periphery, he could see the Lamia striding towards him, acid-green blood trickled from her forehead. Her long, sickled claws caught the faint light from the streetlamps outside and Dean really didn't want to know what they felt like digging into his gut.

"Sam!" Dean wheezed. Suddenly, the distinctive _snick_ of a gun's safety being clicked off filled the warehouse. Sam rose from the floor, gun trained on the Lamia whose claws froze inches away from Dean's throat. Still on the floor, Dean shuffled backwards out of her reach as Sam fired once, twice, three times into the monster.

The Lamia jerked as the silver bullets hit their mark and the Winchesters waited tensely for her to fall. Dean's stomach twisted when she didn't. The monster grinned, a sickly laugh bubbling up from her chest. Sam emptied his clip into her as she walked towards them but the bullets hardly seemed to faze her. Beside him, Dean released an almost impressive litany of curses as the monster drew closer to them.

" _Mortals,_ " She hissed, " _always so—"_ An arrow split the air, burying itself in her throat. The Lamia's eyes widened in shock before she burst into a cloud of golden dust.

There was a beat of silence and then, "What the hell?" Dean said.

"More like, 'thank you'." Sam and Dean spun around to see a young girl standing behind them, a silver bow in her hands and a quiver of matching arrows slung over her back. Sam brought his gun back up to face her, but the girl rolled her eyes.

"We all know you're out of bullets, Sam" She said.

What little of Dean's guard had come down immediately flew back up as his mind flipped through the list of their enemies that could disguise themselves as a fifteen-year-old girl. Sam could almost feel Dean tense up next to him, but Sam's gut told him the girl wasn't a threat. She looked young, dressed in a silver parka with a matching circlet resting in her dark hair. She cut a striking figure, standing there with her weapons and combat boots. But it was her startling blue eyes that held Sam's attention. There was actually something familiar about her.

"Wait. Thalia?" Sam said on disbelief. Thalia smiled.

"Took ya longer than I expected. I don't think I've changed _that_ much." She said. "But you have. Jesus, dude, how tall are you?"

Sam laughed, tucking his gun back into the waistband of his jeans. Glancing over at his brother he could see the moment Dean connected the Thalia of the past to the girl standing in front of them.

"That Thalia?" He asked loudly. "The kid who slept on my couch and then stole my granola bars." Thalia nodded as she walked past Sam to retrieve her arrow. "You look twelve."

"I'm almost twenty, thanks." She said as she brushed gold dust off the arrow. "But, I do admit that I look young for my age."

Dean scoffed at the understatement but didn't press. He began walking around the room, gathering the scattered weapons the Lamia had knocked from their hands. Now that the shock of seeing Thalia again had worn off, dozens of questions bubbled under Sam's tongue. _What happened to you? Where have you been? Why did you leave without saying goodbye?_

"How did you kill it? What's your arrow made of?" Sam asked instead.

"Silver."

"Sam's entire clip was silver." Dean protested from across the room.

Thalia shot him a smug smile. "My silver is special." Outside the warehouse, the low howl of a wolf filled the night air. Thalia grimaced.

"While this little reunion has been great, I've got to get going." She said, heading for the door.

"Wait, hang on a damn minute." Dean said. "You can't just waltz in here with your 'special silver' and your bow and arrows after ten years, wearing a crown—"

"It's not a crown!"

"—with no explanation, and then leave again!" Thalia's eyes narrowed, like she was waiting for Dean to try and stop her.

"I can't tell you what you want to know."

"But you could say goodbye this time." Dean said, and Thalia's face softened. She crossed the room to Dean and Sam in a few short steps and, sheathing her bow, gave them both quick hugs.

"Goodbye, Winchesters." She said. Dean smiled at her.

"Stay safe, Thalia."

Thalia nodded, and with one last smile and a wave, she left.

* * *

"Thalia! Wait a minute!" Thalia turned to see Sam following her out the door. She stopped.

"At least let me give you my number. Call if you ever need help. Dean and I will come." Sam pulled a scrap of paper from his coat pocket and scribbled down two numbers.

"The top number is mine. But I switch numbers a lot, so the bottom one is for a guy named Bobby Singer. He'll always know how to get in contact with Dean or me."

Thalia took the paper dubiously. "I don't really carry a phone."

"Then use a payphone if you need to." Sam said. "I'm pretty sure they still exist in some places."

Looking across the warehouse's parking lot, Sam could see a group of young girls gathered at the tree line, silver wolves sat at their sides. They wore the same parkas as Thalia and carried bows across their backs. Thalia looked back at the group.

"I really do need to go. They put a lot of trust in my word by letting me go into that warehouse alone." She said.

Even from a distance, Sam could see how protective the group felt of Thalia. He wanted to ask about the wolves, and why the group was running around in the woods. He wanted to ask what had happened to Thalia. But he didn't. Sam guessed that there was really only one thing he needed to know.

"Are they your family?" He asked. Thalia smiled warmly as she looked at them.

"Yeah. It took longer than I had hoped to find them. But I have now." She turned back to Sam.

"Thanks." She said. "I mean it, Sam. Thank you. For everything. I never thanked you."

"Yes you did." Sam said, and Thalia laughed.

"A note with one word on it doesn't count." She readjusted the quiver across her back and Sam found himself sad at the prospect of her leaving again.

"Call if you ever need anything."

"I will."

Sam watched as she jogged across the parking lot to reach her family. He felt Dean join him at the doorway of the building as the girls and their wolves slipped away into the trees. Thalia, the last to leave, spared them one last wave as she too disappeared into the forest.

"Do you think we'll see her again some day?" Sam asked, echoing the same question he spoke almost ten years ago exactly.

"Maybe." Dean said. He clapped Sam on the shoulder. "I'm gonna start up the Impala."

Sam nodded, still looking into the woods where Thalia left. He stayed there in the winter chill until Dean gave him the horn impatiently from the car. And then he turned, and left to join his brother.

* * *

Sam's cell phone won't stop ringing. It's three in the morning, and his phone won't shut up. In the back of his sleep deprived mind, Sam knows he should pick it up before Dean starts throwing pillows at him, or worse, answers himself. But it's been a long week, or month, hell, a long year. Whatever.

"Sam. Answer your goddam phone." Dean mutters from the other bed as the phone begins a fresh bout of ringing. Groaning, Sam rolls over and fumbles for the phone.

"Whozit?"

"Is this Sam Winchester?" A young girl's voice asks from the other side of the line.

"Yeah. Who's this?" Sam really hopes this isn't a new hunt. He and Dean have other problems of apocalyptic proportions they need to deal with.

"It's Thalia." She says. The name sounds familiar but Sam can't place it at this hour of the morning. "You said I could call if I ever needed help?" Something clicks in Sam's head.

"Yeah. Yeah, I remember." Sam sits up in his bed, wide awake.

"Sam, who that?" Dean mumbles, face still buried in his pillow. Sam ignores him.

"Are you alright?" Sam asks. Thalia pauses.

"Yes…no. I'm fine." Her voice sounds stressed, tired. Sam wonders what she's doing awake at three in the morning. "But I need a favor. It's a friend of mine. He's gone missing. He just… just, gone. We're all looking, but, I thought…" Thalia takes a deep breath, pulling herself together.

"I was hoping you could keep an eye out for him. He's like a little brother to me." Thalia says.

"Of course we will." Sam says. Dean listens, still mostly under the influence of sleep, as his brother speaks in low, reassuring tones on the phone. He really hopes this is another hunt. He needs something to distract him from the demons and angels that currently plague his life.

"You're really worried, huh?" Dean hears Sam ask. Yeah, this definitely sounds like a hunt.

"Dean and I will look for him." Sam promises. He listens for a moment, and then reaches for the nightstand and fumbles around for one of the miscellaneous pens hotels always seem to have rolling around. "Ok, ready."

Dean closes his eyes again as the sound of pen scratching on paper fills the room.

"Don't worry about it. We'll keep our eyes peeled, and let me know if he gets back safe." Sam ends the call and flops back down onto his pillow. Dean waits for Sam to speak, but when the silence stretches past Dean's patience, he rolls over to face his brother and launches his pillow across the two-foot gap between their beds.

"Well?"

Sam bats the pillow aside easily. "Remember Thalia? From a couple years ago?" Dean nods.

"That was her calling. Her friend is missing. Some kid named Percy Jackson."

* * *

 **Well there you have it, Thalia's encore in the Winchesters' lives.**


End file.
